


Part 13 The Dreams We Weave

by xxxRIPLEYxxx



Series: The Princes of Midgard [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Steve Feels, Steve is a goddam mess, frostshield - Freeform, stoki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23409973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxRIPLEYxxx/pseuds/xxxRIPLEYxxx
Summary: The first time Steve laid eyes on Loki in Stuttgart, something happened to him, and he's not sure what, but he knows he can't tell anyone. When Thor tells the Avengers how Loki died saving his life on the Dark World, Steve begins having vivid dreams of Loki. He makes the perfectly reasonable decision to get the God of Mischief out of his head by finding someone who looks like him. But, when the worst happens, who'll pick up the pieces when Steve falls apart?
Relationships: Loki/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Original Male Character(s)
Series: The Princes of Midgard [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469486
Comments: 38
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cellis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cellis/gifts).



> This is not part of the timeline of the Princes of Midgard saga, and can stand alone. But, I felt it belonged in this universe as a possible alternate way Steve and Loki could have gotten together before Bucky came back. This is all Steve's POV and takes place during and immediately following the events of Dark World. 
> 
> I honestly think this is the best thing I’ve ever written and I’m really proud of it. I hope you like it. Cellis, I gift this to you because of our shared passion for these two.
> 
> Thank you to SoLongLivesThis and Bakkfity for thinking of me and for gifting this lovely art on Tumblr [here](https://bakkfity.tumblr.com/post/61784364612/finally-i-had-time-to-colour-one-of-my-newest%22)

Steve had been having the same dream every night for a week—of what had really happened the first time he’d ever seen Loki in that town square in Stuttgart—Loki— glowing bright gold, commanding, magnificently menacing. He could still hear that voice. He hadn’t been afraid of Loki, but he _had_ been afraid of how his own body had reacted to him—like it had never reacted to any human being. Even as they’d bantered, both full of bravado and strut and threat, his skin had been tingling, the hair on his arms standing on end.They’d fought and Loki had forced him to his knees and made him bow. Him—Steve Rogers, Captain America—the strongest, toughest human on the planet. It had taken Tony hitting Loki with a blaster to take him down, and even then it turned out he had planned that in order to be taken prisoner and brought aboard the helicarrier.

He called himself a god. He was, at least, a Norse legend come to life, rewriting everything Steve had thought he’d known about himself in a way Thor never had, resetting every baseline to a new number, rewiring his brain and his emotions. From that first meeting, Steve had been obsessed with every haughty glance, every sinister smile, every moment of vulnerability Loki had shown to anyone who’d had the perception to notice. But, he’d stuffed that all away into a box in the deepest part of himself. No one would ever know— _could_ ever know—how Loki had affected him.

Loki had been imprisoned in the dungeons of Asgard and then he’d died saving his brother on the Dark World. Thor had told them all about it in great detail, recounting the bravery and self-sacrifice that would surely get him into Valhalla. Something in Steve had stretched tight and snapped when he’d heard that. A stab of pain, a wave of relief, a moment of panic, then sadness.

_I don’t want it to be true. I wanted to know him._

Even though he’d known he would never be able to. How could Captain America ever be associated with the would-be conquerer of Earth? And, then, he’d woken up in a cold sweat, the sheets a tangled mess around his legs, hair matted to his forehead, heart racing.

 _Loki_.

The second week, the dream only ended after Loki had pulled him up off his knees to his feet, holding him at arm’s length, green eyes looking straight into his soul, probing, reaching into his thoughts. In the dream, he’d wanted Loki to know something, but he could never say what, exactly. His mind simply couldn’t form the thoughts. When he woke the last time, there was a brush of...something...across his cheek; something soft, and then he’d found a scrap of gold cloth on his nightstand the next morning.

_You’re losing it, Rogers. He’s dead. He was run through the chest with a giant alien sword by a giant alien monster. Thor had held his body._

But, where had that gold cloth come from? He didn’t remember putting it there, but he could have. He’d done a lot of things lately without realizing what he was doing. He had zoned so far out on the heavy bag that he didn’t even remember hitting it so hard it had flown across the room and sent the leg press machine halfway through the wall. But, surely, he would have remembered buying or finding a square of gold cloth the size of a handkerchief. He picked it up, stared at it, put it to his face, and inhaled. His enhanced sense of smell picked up something familiar and subtle...cinnamon?

 _Oh, God_...

The third week, the dream didn’t end until Loki had pulled him to his feet, locked eyes with him, and then yanked him roughly so close to his face, Steve could smell his earthy-cinnamon-and-leather scent. The same scent as the gold cloth; the scent he’d never forgotten. He’d found himself thinking about it many times during the days he was supposed to be training and trying not to argue with Tony. Since Loki’s death, he’d stepped up his training and had volunteered for more Avengers public relations tours. Normally, the last thing he wanted was to be around throngs of adoring fans and obsequious politicians, but lately it seemed to help keep his mind off whatever the hell was happening in his head.

When Thor had arrived at a ceremony in Stuttgart commemorating the old man who’d stood up to Loki and had survived only due to Steve deflecting the fire with his shield, all he’d felt was a tightness in his chest that faded to a subtle ache. Loki would have killed the man for the sole purpose of setting an example, and yet Steve had still _wanted_...wanted to touch, to run the back of a single finger across his cheek, to see him smile.

That whole week he’d had trouble getting to sleep, and that was unusual for him. The second night of that week, he’d brought the strip of cloth to his nose and inhaled deeply, and then he _was_ able to sleep. And to dream. It had become a ritual that helped him sleep and dream of what he could never have.

_Idiot. Why are you torturing yourself with the memory of a dead man?_

And, every day that week when he showered after a workout, there was Loki’s face when he closed his eyes. His lips were moving as if he were trying to tell Steve something, but he just couldn’t quite make it out, and Loki’s head would tilt slightly to the side as if waiting for him to understand, one corner of his mouth turning upward in a sly half-grin.

And, then...the fourth week. _Oh, God, the fourth week._ He’d had a pretty strong sex drive ever since he’d gotten the serum, but lately it was nearly out of control. He masturbated twice every night; often three times. He’d started sleeping with the strip of cloth on his pillow and just the scent of cinnamon and leather made him so hard, he couldn’t contain himself. His hand wrapped around his cock and Loki’s face appeared, smiling seductively at him, green eyes half-lidded, pink tongue running across his lower lip.

_Can you feel it, Captain? Can you feel how much I want you?_

And, then, a silky, slick shine would coat his shaft, as if he’d covered himself with the lube he kept in the nightstand. But, he knew he hadn’t. Had he? His head slammed back into the pillow as he moaned and stroked himself to orgasm, imagining Loki watching him.

_Ah...Captain... let me see you come for me. Pump that big, thick cock and imagine what it would feel like in my mouth. Imagine me on my knees for you. Only you._

When he spurted all over his hand and belly, all he could see was Loki’s naked body—or what he imagined it looked like—tall and sleek and lithe, with one big, elegant, long-fingered hand wrapped around his own erection, standing over him . Sometimes, he wore the muzzle Thor had taken him away in, and the knowing green eyes penetrated deep into his own... _knowing_ what Steve had felt seeing him in cuffs and chains. _Oh_ , the heat in his belly when he’d seen that...it made his cheeks flush and his breath catch in his chest just thinking about it. Loki in chains had fueled his fantasies for weeks after that. Had Loki known then?

Most often, though, that fourth week, the dream was a composite of both scenes—Steve on his knees looking up at Loki in the square in Stuttgart and Loki muzzled and chained, looking down his nose imperiously and locking eyes with him.

_There are no men like me._

Those were the best and most intense orgasms of his life.

_*****_

“Steve? You okay, man?”

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his own head and back to the locker room where he’d been getting dressed after a shower. He realized he’d been sitting on a bench holding his socks and staring at the floor.

“What? Oh...yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just haven’t been sleeping too well the past month or so.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“No, it’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

But, he wasn’t fine. Almost every night was worse than the last—or better, he supposed, depending on how he looked at it. Last night, he was laying in bed staring at the television and wondering if it was time to see a shrink, or at least talk to Natasha. The idea of talking to Sam about having vivid sex dreams of Loki was even less appealing than talking to Nat. The strip of gold cloth was on his pillow, as usual. The cinnamon scent was gone now, faded beyond detection by even his sensitive nose. He’d finally decided to take it outside around the corner and drop it in the dumpster, but, when he’d sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, there was Loki.

Standing in front of Steve in all his breathtaking, naked glory. Steve was surprised to see a few big scars on Loki’s chest. He’d never thought about that.

_Delusions, now? But, why would I have delusions about scars I never knew existed?_

He reached out and touched...skin. Real skin. Loki’s hand cupped the back of his neck and pulled him forward so his left cheek was against Loki’s hip, his nose resting in the soft, black pubic hair. The cinnamon-leather-musk scent was nearly overpowering. He closed his eyes and Loki’s fingers carded through his hair as Steve sobbed softly and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I really am going insane.”

Loki tilted Steve’s face up and brushed the moisture away with his thumbs.

“No, Captain. You aren’t going insane. I just had to be certain. But, I’m not ready. It would be too dangerous for you right now, and I don’t wish to lose you, Steve Rogers. You mean more to me than you know.”

He leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips, then pressed something into his hand.

”Call me if you need me.”

He shimmered out of existence and Steve stared blankly into the space Loki had been for a few moments. When he opened his hand, in it was a green gem the size of a marble.

*****

For the next few weeks, Steve carried it with him, still not certain what had happened. Loki was dead—but he’d _seen_ him, smelled his scent, _felt_ him. He’d put a solid, real object in his hand. What was he supposed to do with that? Not the gem, but the whole idea that he could...what...summon Loki like people claimed to summon spirits?

_Call me if you need me._

It was a terrifying thought, either way. If he called and Loki answered, what could that possibly lead to? His life was a confusing enough mess right now, without bringing _Loki_ ’s chaos into it, whether he was an imaginary figure or a real one, somehow manifest by magic. A ghost? His mom had believed in ghosts. A lot of Catholics did. She’d believed in demons, too, and Loki was far more likely to be that than just a ghost, if he’d believed in such things.

And, if he called and Loki didn’t answer, it was just more proof he was losing his mind—that he’d tried it at all. Loki had not appeared to him again since that night, and the dreams subsided, although the thoughts did not. Not completely, anyway. He still masturbated a lot, especially to the image of that lean, white body standing over him, holding him, the scent of him.

But, he carried the gem, anyway, in his pocket when he was in civilian clothes and in his belt pouch when he was in uniform.The past several weeks had held nothing more interesting than making public appearances and dealing with a few supervillain-wannabes, but he was always aware of that green gem. Always tempted to hold it and speak Loki’s name when he was lonely. There was even one time when he’d finally given in to the hero-worshipping groupies and let himself be seduced by a tall woman with long black hair, he realized (in the middle of a blow job) that he’d been looking down at the mane of black hair and imagining it was Loki. He’d reached into his pocket and held the gem until he came.

 _Fuck_.

And then, a thought formed in his subconscious and eventually evolved into a real idea. A way to get Loki out of his head, maybe, that made perfect sense (sure it did). What if he could find a substitute—someone who looked like Loki? Even if it didn’t last, he could at least pretend for awhile, and then the novelty would wear off, and he’d be done with Loki. It was a perfectly rational plan. He wrapped the gem in a sock and tucked it away in the drawer.

Finding someone who looked like Loki was a tall order, but Steve was nothing if not determined when set to a task, and he made it his mission to find his Loki lookalike. It was the only way. For over a month, he went to different gay bars nearly every night and God, if that wasn’t difficult enough—he’d never set foot in one in his life—there was no one who even came close. He’d quickly developed a strategy, such as it was, of sitting at one corner of the bar and nonchalantly seeming to watch the dance floor while sipping a drink, all the while appraising every man in the place. The first time someone hit on him, he’d had no idea what to do.

“Hey. Anyone ever told you you look like that Captain America dude?”

“Yeah, I get that sometimes. I don’t really think so, though.”

”Huh. Well, you’re close enough. You want to dance?”

“Oh...no, thanks. I’m meeting a friend.”

“Fuckin’ lucky friend. If you change your mind, I’ll be around.”

And, so it went for weeks, his strategy a complete failure. He could have gone home with dozens of attractive men, but they just didn’t matter, because it wasn’t really about _men_. It was only about _Loki_.

_There are no men like me._

And, damn if that wasn’t the truth.

Finally (fucking _finally_ ), one night, he saw him at the other end of the bar, laughing with a group of friends. His hair wasn’t black enough or long enough, but the build and the height were right. He might even be a little taller than Loki. He towered elegantly over his friends without seeming aggressive about it, like it was just his due, and that seemed about right, too. He had those perfect Viking cheekbones that looked like they’d been honed to a sharp edge with some mysterious sharpening tool and the fair skin of someone who didn’t spend much time in the sun. He was perfect.

Steve took a deep breath and wiped his palms on his new black jeans. The saleswoman had told him how good they made his butt look, so he’d taken her at her word. He walked to the end of the bar and waited for the other man to make eye contact, which he did, then looked away, then back again immediately and smiled.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Steve asked.

“You? My soul would be crushed if you didn’t,” theman responded with a smile nearly as dazzling as Loki’s, and he had a faint accent Steve couldn’t place. His voice was smooth and deep.

“I’m Steve. What’ll you have?”

The man laughed softly and touched his shoulder.

“A double Grey Goose, rocks, please. I’m Esteban.”

He pronounced it with the accent on the middle syllable. Steve chuckled, too, and didn’t mind the hand on his shoulder at all.

“Spanish for Steven. That’s quite a coincidence.”

“Mmhm. I’m Catalan, from northern Spain.”

That explained the Northern European features and the penetrating ice-blue eyes. Also, he noticed the very slight lisp of the upper-class Spanish “s” sound that became a soft “th” sound. He’d met a girl from San Sebastián once who’d had that lisp. It turned the word ‘Espana’ into ‘Ethpana,’ and Steve found it very sexy. He felt self-conscious and outclassed by Esteban’s casual grace and manner, and that reminded him of Loki, too. He almost walked away, but couldn’t quite do it.

“My family was poor Irish potato farmers who moved here a hundred years or so ago.”

“You look more like a Greek god to me, Hermoso.”

“Charmer,” said Steve, flushing a little and rubbing the back of his neck.

It had been awhile since anyone other than hero-worshippers had told him he was beautiful, and it felt good, especially coming from someone as breathtakingly handsome as this man. They talked and drank for a long time, and when Esteban invited him to his apartment on the Upper East Side, Steve nodded. Blood rushed to his face and he was glad it was dark enough that no one could see how brightly he was blushing. Esteban’s apartment was a lot more luxurious than Steve’s place, so it seemed he certainly was not hurting for money. In fact, it seemed way more of an expensive apartment than a biochemical engineer could afford. Maybe his family had money, too.

As soon as they stepped in and closed the door, Esteban shoved him against it and ripped open his shirt, sending buttons flying. Hands reached around under it, fingers running along his ribs and up his back, and for a few moments, he forgot about Loki. He closed his eyes and just _felt_. Felt hands drop down and cup his ass, felt lips press against his, felt the firmness of Esteban’s cock as it pushed against his. He started unbuttoning the other man’s shirt and heard a faint hiss as Steve’s hands spread across his bare chest. Sure and confident hands unbuckled his belt and opened his zipper. _Oh, God_...he was so hard already...and this gorgeous creature was on his knees, looking up at him as one hand reached into his pants and pulled his cock free.

“Hermoso,” Esteban said again, as his hand wrapped around Steve’s erection.

 _”Oh...ah_...wow...” he barely got the words out before his cock was balls-deep into that hot, wet, perfect mouth.

_Oh, Jesus...Loki...Esteban...what am I doing?_

“Wait...I—I’m not sure I can do this.”

”Not sure you can do what, Hermoso? Stand there and be worshipped? You are fucking beautiful and I can barely wait to be inside you.”

The soft Spanish accent, the voice, _everything_ , made him slam his head back against the wall. This whole thing was surreal, now _. Too much. Too much._

“No, I—you’re—“

Esteban cut off the rest of his sentence by sucking his entire cock into his mouth, and Steve was lost. Gone. He shuddered and came, forgetting everything except how _good_ it felt to come in Loki’s—( _what_?!)—Esteban’s mouth.

And, then, it was over. He was panting, knees weak, still leaning against the wall. Esteban unfolded to his feet, sliding his body upward against Steve’s, then kissed him hungrily. Loki was a couple of inches taller than Steve, and this man was even taller. He had to crane his neck to look up at him as he finished unbuttoning Esteban's shirt. They both dropped them on the floor and stood just staring at each other for a few moments.

 _Oh, my God...that build, that skin...he damn near_ is _Loki._

Esteban pulled Steve’s jeans down and let him step out of them, then took a step back, awestruck by the perfect naked body in front of him.

”Madre de Dios! Tu eres tan guapo.”

“I’m sorry?” Steve looked a little confused.

“Holy Mother of God, you are too handsome to be real,” he shook his head in disbelief.

“No more than you, Esteban. You are...absolutely gorgeous.”

“Then we will be beautiful together, yes?” he asked, as he guided Steve to the bedroom and pushed him backwards onto the bed. Steve leaned back on his elbows with knees spread apart, watching as Esteban finished undressing and stood in front of him.

_Just like Loki. Tall and lean and inhumanly beautiful._

He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and exhaled audibly, and Esteban lay down on the bed next to him, pulling him over so they were both on their sides facing each other. His long arms and legs wrapped around Steve like an octopus and pulled him close, his erection pressing into Steve’s belly.

“You know I want you, Steven. May I call you Steven? But, you seem a little...distracted...nervous. Is something wrong?”

“No. No, I want this, too. You’re so much more than I ever expected to find. It’s just...”

“Someone you can’t forget? I know the signs and you have all of them. You’re trying to forget someone who hurt you.”

_God, is that what this is? A rebound from a relationship that never happened? Well, I have no better way to explain it, so..._

“Something like that,” he tried to smile, but didn’t think it came across too well. A little pathetic, even.

“Then, let me help you forget him.”

Esteban kissed him again, gently, but deep and wanting, and Steve wanted, too. Oh, God, did he want, but...

“There’s something else. Something I should have told you before, but...you didn’t really give me a chance,” he said, blushing again and nodding toward the front door.

“I’ve never—been with—a man.”

Esteban raised an eyebrow.

“En serio? Never? Not even oral pleasure? Not even with the man who hurt you?”

Steve shook his head. There had been that one time with Bucky...but that was over seventy years ago, and they’d never spoken about it again. And, Bucky was long gone, just like that life was gone.

“No.”

“And, what made you choose me to be your first? _Ah_...no, you don’t need to tell me. I look like him. That’s why you singled me out in a club packed with handsome men.”

He was quiet for several moments, then pulled Steve in even tighter. And, even that felt good—just to be held.

“Oh, Steven. This night is not going where I expected it to. But, perhaps we can make it go somewhere just as good. You still want this, yes?”

Steve nodded. Esteban laughed softly and moved Steve’s hand to his cock, which had softened somewhat, but was still semi-erect. He reached into his nightstand for a bottle of lube, then lay on his back.

“There’s no need to rush. Just take it in your hand as if it were your own.”

He unsnapped the lid, Steve shifted to kneel in the bed, and held out a hand so Esteban could pour a little on it.

“Just do whatever feels right. You’ll know.”

He rubbed lube over both palms, then used his hands to spread it all over the shaft and head, gently working it up and down. It hardened at his touch, and that sent a shiver to his groin that caused his own to react. He just did all the things he, himself, liked, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Plus, the idea that _his_ hands could make this man moan and arch and shiver was starting to make him hard again already. Without even thinking about it, he kissed the tip of the gorgeous cock and took the head in his mouth.

“ _Oh, God...Steven_...it’s hard to believe you’ve never done this before.”

Whether Esteban said it because it was true or to make him feel more at ease, it worked, and he’d never wanted to please anyone so much in his life. 

“I’ve always been a pretty fast learner,” Steve said, smiling.

He licked it from base to tip, slowly, languidly, as if they had all the time in the world, until Esteban was gripping the bedclothes so hard his hands turned white and he couldn’t take his eyes off Steve.

“ _Ah...Dios...more...please.”_

And, he obliged, taking the head in his mouth, moving up and down a little farther each time. He hadn’t gotten much more than halfway when Esteban grabbed his hair.

“If you don’t want to swallow, just pull away.”

Huh. Well, he hadn’t come this far to be scared off by a little semen, so he doubled down and sucked it in as far he could. In a matter of seconds, his mouth filled with a thick, hot liquid, and he swallowed it all, Esteban’s hands buried in his hair.

He’d never tasted a man’s cum before, and although it was a little bitter, it wasn’t so bad. When he’d finished, Esteban pulled him down next to him so his head rested on his chest and a long arm went around his shoulder.

“Well, then. That was...unexpected. That’s probably enough for your first night—so long as you promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?” Steve asked, genuinely having no idea where Esteban was headed with this. 

“I can see you again tomorrow night.”

Steve felt his face flush again and his dick twitched just thinking about it.

“Um, sure, of course. I’d like that a lot.”

“How far away are you? It’s very late.”

“Brooklyn. It’s not that far. I can take care of myself,” he said, starting to get up.

“I have no doubt of that, Steven. But, stay. Stay the night and we can have breakfast.”

”You don’t mind?”

”’Mind?’ Why would I mind having one of the most handsome and charming men I’ve ever met in my bed for the night?”

“Well, I guess since you put it that way,” Steve chuckled and settled back down into the nook of Esteban’s arm, and it felt...right.

He’d have Loki out of his thoughts in no time. He just knew it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dos mas cafecitos, por favor?” Esteban motioned to the waitress over the best chocolate pancakes Steve had ever tasted.

“I must confess something, Steven. Last night was most unusual, and not for the obvious reason. Or, at least, not _just_ for the obvious reason.”

“Oh? And, what was the obvious reason? Did I miss something?” Steve asked, trying and failing to suppress a grin.

“I’ve lived in New York for five years, and I can count on one hand the number of men I’ve brought home from a club—or, anywhere, for that matter—the first time I met them.”

“Wow. I would’ve thought someone with your looks would have a different person every night.”

”I would have said the same about you,” Esteban grinned at him.

“So, in your case, would it be ‘person’ or just ‘men’?” Steve asked.

“I’m strictly and committedly homosexual. Never had any interest in women whatsoever. You?”

“That’s not such an easy question for me. I grew up in a time...a place...where being one hundred percent straight was the only thing that wouldn’t get you beaten up, so I really didn’t have many options until recently. But, I like women. Had one very memorable almost-relationship with one. We never really had the chance to see it through, though.”

Esteban nodded.

“I have family working in the Middle East. Engineering of some sort seems to be in our blood.In most of those places, I would have been executed long ago, and I was fortunate to have been born a Spaniard. In that, at least, we are considered progressive.”

They agreed on dinner plans, Esteban motioned for the check, and looked stricken when Steve tried to pay half the bill.

“I asked you to stay, so you are my guest. Do not insult me.”

Steve just smiled and left. What the hell was he supposed to have done? Kissed him in public? Suppose he’d been recognized? But, he still felt like shit about it.

_Damn it, Loki. This is your fault, somehow. He looks so much like you. Acts like you, too. Not quite so arrogant, but he’s a Spaniard. Give him time. Fuck. I may really be falling for this guy._

_*****_

Steve felt like it was actually Loki who had him pinned to the bed, holding him down by the wrists, kissing him. This was the way he’d imagined it time and time again. He could pretend he had no choice, and that somehow made it easier to let it happen.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. But, it _is_ happening. I _will_ have you tonight, Steven,” he said, with an evil smirk.

“Damn arrogant Spaniard.”

“So, you _do_ understand that we are entitled to take what we want. This makes me happy.”

He kissed Steve with crushing force, grinding his erection into Steve’s belly.

“Is that what you call gentle?”

“No, but this is.”

He slid down and took Steve’s cock in his mouth, sucking until it was fully erect, and then looking up at him.

“You do have a beautiful cock. I’m sure I’m not the first to say so.”

“No, but you’re the first I’ve been sure was sincere, and I have no idea why I think that,” Steve laughed.

He watched with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension as Esteban poured lube into his hand and took special care to coat his index and middle fingers. Then, his head ducked down and he swallowed Steve’s erection halfway and sucked, while his middle finger probed and stroked around his anus.

“Oh, God, you’re killing me. Just do what you want to do.”

“As you command, Steven.”

He added more lube, then his middle finger pushed inside and wasted no time finding Steve’s prostate, stroking firmly as Steve began to squirm.

“ _Ah...Christ_...”

He felt vaguely guilty about saying‘Christ,’ but that thought was fleeting. It felt too damn good.

“Relax and breathe, Steven. This is just the beginning,” Esteban said, grinning.

Once Steve had relaxed, Esteban added his index finger. The two working together stroking the perfect spot made Steve’s hips jerk up off the bed, and Esteban kissed him.

“Good, yes? You like it so far, I think.”

“Um... _good_...would be...an understatement.”

Esteban held himself up over Steve with his other arm, and Steve was overcome with just how tall this man really was—even horizontal. He enveloped Steve, and seemed to understand that this was what Steve needed right now—to not be in control; to be told what to do; to let Esteban lead him where he wanted. He wasn’t certain exactly why he trusted this man so much, but he did.

And, Esteban needed that, too. If this was to be Steven’s first time—and he was certain that was true—he wanted to be the one to guide him, to teach him. The traditional Spaniard in him craved it and it was a responsibility he took seriously, so he continued stroking and whispered into Steve’s ear.

“I know who you are, Steven—Captain Rogers.”

“ _What_?! You’re picking _now_ to tell me that?”

He smiled softly, kissing Steve’s cheek as he spoke.

“I could not have you think I was being an irresponsible lover for not wearing protection. I know you are not susceptible to disease, that’s all.If you were to think I didn’t care, I could not live with that.”

“Oh. Well...if that’s all that’s holding you back, then... _fuck me._ I want it. I want _you_ , Esteban.”

And, he meant it as much as he’d ever meant anything in his life. He could barely think straight and he was nearly quivering with anticipation. He wanted Esteban as badly as he’d ever wanted Loki, and his cock was so full and hard it was aching. 

Esteban kissed him again and then knelt between his knees, barely able to control his own need as he drank in the sight of Steve’s chest and shoulders. He felt a few drops of pre-cum drip down the head of his own cock as he watched how Steve’s abdominal muscles twitched when Esteban’s breath ghosted over them. 

“You’re ready, Steven. Rest those perfect legs on my shoulders, now, and try to relax.”

He poured more lube into his hand, spreading it all over his cock as he spoke.

“My God, those thighs...you are magnificent, Steven, and I’m going to make you forget him, I promise.”

“You already have.”

Esteban leaned over Steve and slowly pushed in, giving him time to breathe and relax. Once he was all the way in, he stopped and took a deep breath, one hand spread on Steve’s chest.

“I don’t know how long I’m going to last—you feel so good and you’re so beautiful to watch. But, I’m going to move now.”

Steve just nodded, lips parted and breath coming fast, then faster as Esteban started to move. When a hand wrapped around his cock, his body bowed forward and he moaned in pleasure, in awe—he’d never felt anything like it or even imagined how good it could feel. 

“ _Ah...God...that’s—that’s...”_

“Amazing. Perfect, like you.”

Between Esteban’s cock and his hand, it didn’t take long for Steve to be completely undone. The rhythmic pressure on his prostate, the slick stroking of a strong hand on his engorged cock—it was all so much so quickly. He gasped, all his muscles tensed, and he spurted cum all over Esteban’s hand and himself.

_“AH...oh, God...Esteban.”_

Esteban tried to keep control for a few more moments, but when Steve called his name when he came, he lost it. He shuddered and moaned and kept thrusting until every wave of pleasure passed, every drop of cum was milked out of him. He let himself drop on top of Steve and they lay there in silence, just listening to each other breathe until Steve kissed him.

“I’m so lucky I met you, Esteban. I’m not sure where I’d be right now if I hadn’t.”

”I would say we were fated to meet, if I believed in such things,” he whispered in response, stroking Steve’s hair. 

*****

They spent that night together, and the next, and the next, and nearly every night for the next few weeks. Steve would go straight from training to Esteban’s, and when he was called out, Esteban would pace and wait to hear from him. He knew it was unlikely anything could happen that was bad enough to really hurt Captain America, but still...he worried. When Steve came to his place with a black eye, a cut cheek, and a split lip, Esteban dragged him into the shower to wash him, finding more bruises and a cracked rib. Steve tried to wave him off, a little embarrassed about being fussed over so much.

“You don’t need to do all that. I’ll be healed by morning.”

“Hmm. Maybe I don’t, but I like taking care of America’s hero. _My_ hero.”

The days passed so quickly and the whole relationship seemed surreal. Steve was immersed in it and how right and perfect it felt. He had nearly forgotten about Loki, except for the occasional passing thought, and every potential plan or dream about his future included Esteban now. He could no longer imagine life without this handsome, brilliant Spaniard, and he made a decision over breakfast one morning.

“I want you to meet Sam and Nat. They’re my best friends, and they’ll be at the center tomorrow. Will you stop by so I can introduce you?”

Esteban was quiet for a few moments, thoughts obviously churning through his mind, and chose his words carefully.

“When I figured out who you were, I did a lot of reading, Steven. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be involved with such a public figure. But, I—I was so captivated by you that I decided to try it. The thing is...I know—and your friends will know the moment they see me—who it is I look like. He’s the one who hurt you, somehow. And, then, what will you do, once they know it was Loki?”

Steve winced and stared at his scrambled eggs for a minute, pushing them around the plate.

”They can think whatever they want. I don’t care. And, Loki and I never had any sort of relationship, other than him trying to conquer Earth and me fighting him. There was nothing else there.”

“Nothing? Steven, you sought me out. I’m a slightly taller, older version of him. Anyone can see it, and in fact, you aren’t the first person to tell me I look like Loki. I find myself feeling more and more attracted to you, but I’m not sure what to think. Would you have ever bought me a drink if I didn’t look like him? Would you have come home with me that night?”

Steve glanced around the diner as if someone might be coming to rescue him, then exhaled sharply and shook his head.

“Can we get out of here, please?”

They split the check this time, and headed back to Esteban’s apartment.

“I know it sounds weird. And, you’re right—I would never have bought you that drink if you didn’t look like him. The whole thing is so hard to explain. When I first saw him, something in me just reacted like it had never reacted to anyone. Maybe he felt the same—I don’t even know.”

“And, you never spoke about it? Didn’t Thor take him back to Asgard?”

“No, we never spoke about it. And then he died saving Thor’s life fighting an enemy that attacked Asgard.”

“Yet, you still think about him enough that you went looking for a twin.”

Steve sighed.

“I told you it was weird—I know that. But, I didn’t expect... _you,_ and I feel like the luckiest man alive. God, Esteban, I don’t want to scare you off, but I—“

He stopped himself, not sure if he should really finish that sentence.

“What is it, Steven? How would you scare me off?”

“I think—no, I know—I’m in love with you.”

Esteban stopped walking and caught Steve’s arm, facing him, their eyes locking.

“That doesn’t scare me, Hermoso. That doesn’t scare me at all.”

He kissed Steve on the lips and even though there were people all around them, Steve kissed him back.

He saw it in the split-second they turned to keep walking—the hand raising, the glint of metal, the finger pulling the trigger—and he stepped in front of Esteban. Three shots from a semi-automatic pistol hit him in the chest, spun him around, and he went to his knees. In horrifying slow motion, he saw three shots hit Esteban in the chest, too, and knock him backwards to the ground, a bright red flower blooming on his crisp, tailored white shirt.

“ _NO_! _ESTEBAN_!”

But, he knew it was too late. All he could do was cover Esteban’s body with his own before everything went black.

*****

He woke to the sound of a monitor beeping to his heart beat, and when he opened his eyes, his vision was blurry, but he could see Sam sitting next to the hospital bed.

“Sam?” His voice was hoarse and his throat was dry.

“Steve. Welcome back,” said Sam, smiling and handing him a glass of water.

It took him a few seconds to remember, and he very nearly couldn’t speak the word.

“Esteban.”

Sam’s smile melted away and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Steve. He didn’t make it. He died at the scene. Almost instantly, according to the medics.”

Steve’s eyes closed again and tears flowed down his cheeks and temples. His chest ached, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness.

“I was...going to introduce him to you and Nat.How long?”

“Three days. The only thing that saved you was that none of the bullets hit your heart and the serum kept you from dying. One of the bullets went straight through Esteban’s heart. It was quick. He didn’t feel much.”

“Oh, God...this was my fault. If I hadn’t gone looking, he’d still be alive.”

“Steve. I don’t know what was going on, but this wasn’t your fault. It was a conspiracy theory nut-job who was convinced The Avengers had been hiding and protecting Loki all this time. He’d been following you for weeks. He thought he was killing Loki.”

“I should have know. I should have. First Bucky, then Peggy, and now Esteban. Everyone I love dies.”

“Steve...”

“Leave me alone, Sam. Please. I need to be alone for awhile, OK?”

Sam squeezed his shoulder, patting his hand as he turned to leave.

“OK. Just remember we’re here when you need us. We all are.”

_Loki. Where were you when I needed you? When I needed you to save him?_

But, he knew that wasn’t fair as soon as he’d thought it. Even if he’d had the gem, Loki couldn’t have saved Esteban. He was already dead when he hit the ground. When the nurse came running into the room, his face was buried in the pillow and he was sobbing uncontrollably. He’d ripped the railing off the bed without even realizing it, and before he knew what was happening, everything faded to black again.

 _Esteban_.

*****

When he woke again, it was to a doctor speaking softly to him, and he had to make a concerted effort not to leap out of bed and run away.

“Captain Rogers. You’re healing well, but I had to sedate you. Am I going to need to do that again? I have to tell you it frightens me because the dose would knock out an elephant.”

Steve shook his head.

“No, no...I’m sorry. I was just...upset.”

“I understand the death of your friend was a shock. Physically, you’re cleared to go home tomorrow, but I suggest you have someone stay with you for a few days.”

He nodded absently. The thought of going home to a house without Esteban nearly brought him to tears again, but when Sam picked him up the following morning and took him home, he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else being there.

“You know the doc told you someone should be here. I can stay.”

“No. I’m fine. I just want to be by myself for awhile. Thank you, Sam. You’re a good friend.”

Sam looked skeptical, but the doc had told him Steve was nearly healed, physically, anyway. He still had scars, but they’d fade soon, too. He desperately wanted to ask Steve what the whole Esteban thing had been about, but he knew better. Steve would shut down and wouldn’t tell him anything, if he pushed. He had to wait until Steve came to him.

For nearly a week, Steve did nothing but lay in bed, watch TV, and try to get drunk. It was a losing proposition, because he had to keep drinking continually in order to even feel it. His metabolism broke down the alcohol so fast, he couldn’t drink enough to stay drunk. He answered phone calls from Sam and Nat and Bruce, saying just enough that they’d leave him alone and not come over. Even Tony was worried, but Steve managed to say all the right things to keep him away, so he could wallow in misery alone for awhile longer. 

After a week, he realized he was getting nowhere. The pain wasn’t going away, and his dreams were filled with visions of Esteban and Loki, intertwined and interchanging. The last straw was a nightmare that started with him walking down a street with one of them on each side of him. Out of the shadows came a monster with a sword, gutting Esteban and leaving him in a bloody heap, while gun shots rang out and Loki fell backwards with three bullets in his chest. Steve could only stand there, frozen, and let it happen, too slow and helpless to do anything but watch.

He had to do _something_.

He opened his sock drawer and got out the gem. He had no idea what he would say to Loki, even if he did appear, but the desperate emptiness in him won out. He had to try, so he sat on the edge of the bed and closed his hand around the gem.

“Loki, I need you. Please, help me.”

Nothing happened.

_I knew it. It was all a delusion._

He dragged himself to the kitchen to pour another tumbler full of Everclear and stood at the window, looking out over the endless New York skyline, blinking back tears. Everyone he loved was gone. He knew it was stupid to call what he’d felt for Loki “love,” but it was most definitely “obsession,” and that was close enough. It hurt. He _had_ loved Bucky and Peggy and, yes...Esteban, even though that had been brand new.

“Captain.”

The soft, deep voice was behind him and a hand touched his shoulder.

“What’s happened?”

Steve hadn’t known until this moment how he’d react, and the intensity of his anger shocked him. He whirled around and punched Loki in the face hard enough to knock him backwards and jerk his head sideways. A bruise was already forming on his cheekbone and there was blood dripping from one nostril, but he didn’t retaliate.

“That would have killed me if I were mortal, Captain. What’s happened to infuriate you so with me?”

“What did you do to me?! Was it a spell?!”

His face was red and he was nearly screaming, tears running down his cheeks.

_“He’s dead because of you!”_

Loki grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in, and Steve collapsed into him, his head on Loki’s chest and his arms limp at his sides. He was crying so hard, he was shaking, and Loki just held him until he had no more tears left, then sat him down on the couch.

“Captain. You don’t have to speak. If you’ll let me, I can see everything that happened. Will you trust me?”

“ _Trust you?_ Why in hell would I trust you?”

“Because you know in your heart that I would never harm you. Please, just let me do this.”

_What have I got to lose? I’ve lost everything, already._

“Damn you. Ok...you win. Just do whatever you want to do. I honestly don’t care anymore.”

Loki put a hand to Steve’s forehead, and it was like...getting struck by lightning.In a flash of white, everything he knew, everything he felt, everything he remembered, everything he wanted or feared or longed for, went straight from his mind to Loki’s. And, he realized...he’d given everything Captain America knew to the creature who’d tried to conquer the world.

_Oh, God...what have I done?_


	3. Chapter 3

Loki stared at the floor for a few moments absorbing what he’d seen, obviously wrestling with what to say.

“I’m so sorry, Captain. You’ve lost someone you loved, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. But, I promise you on the honor of my ancestors I didn’t use any magic to make you feel the way you did about me. I need to tell you something you may not believe, but it’s time. You deserve to know.”

He took Steve’s tear-stained face in his hands.

“The Norns have woven our fates together. They came to me in a dream and showed me the threads—your life and mine are twined forever—Mischief and Chaos with Justice and Good. Together, we can save the Nine Realms.”

Steve just stared at him, incredulous for a long moment.

“We can _what_?”

He stood up, fists clenching and unclenching, like he was trying to decide whether or not to punch Loki again.

“You are fucking insane. You really are. Save the Nine Realms from who? From _you_? Because _that_ actually makes sense.”

“No, Steve. From the being to whom I promised the Tesseract. I—I should have told you sooner, but I had...pressing business in Asgard that kept me there. I couldn’t risk getting you killed because of me.”

Loki extended his hand and the blue cube appeared in it.

“This is what he needs, and I cannot let him have it. When I dropped off the Bifrost and died, he resurrected me for the sole purpose of stealing the Tesseract from Earth. My mind was clouded, then, with anger and jealousy and pain, and I allowed him to manipulate me. That is a responsibility I must bear, but I’m trying to make things right—or at least, prevent them from becoming more wrong.”

“Which reminds me—why aren’t you dead? Everyone knows—thinks—you died on that weird, other-dimension world. Thor told everyone how brave and noble your death was—that he’d held you when you died, and then been forced to leave you there.”

“I _was_ sorely wounded. I was able to heal myself, but my needs dictated I let everyone believe I was dead—even Thor.”

“And me. If you’d told me sooner, I would never have gone looking for Esteban, and he’d still be alive.”

“Perhaps, but the Norns don’t ever reveal everything. It’s possible his death needed to happen.”

Steve's fist clenched, and he was barely able to keep himself from punching Loki again.

 _“Get out_. Take your stupid, damn Tesseract and don’t come back. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“Captain, you don’t mean that. We need each other, and I don’t mean only because of what the Norns said.”

“I _do_ mean it. And, don’t ever mess with my dreams again. If you do, I’ll tell Thor everything. I _should_ do that, anyway.”

“I didn’t manipulate your dreams, Steve. That was all your own doing. I only left you the cloth because I had to know if you could keep my secret. I’ll go now, but, I’ll come back when you need me.”

“I _don’t_ need you,” he said softly, as Loki dissolved in front of him, but he knew that was a lie and Loki knew it, too, because now he knew everything.

*****

Another week dragged by with Steve barely coming out of his house. He spent most of the day in sweatpants and not much else, unless someone was coming by. He ate and drank (a lot) and slept ten hours a day. Sam, Nat, and Clint had all stopped in to check on him, and he convinced them he was recovered enough to go out again soon, even though he had no desire to. He’d missed Esteban’s funeral because he’d been in the hospital, and they’d flown his body back to Spain while Steve was still unconscious. The more he thought about it, the more he knew what he needed to do. He had to go to Spain and visit Esteban’s grave; maybe talk to his family, although he had no idea whether he’d be welcome or not. He was reaching for his phone to make travel reservations when it rang. It was Sam.

“Have you heard what happened?”

“What do you mean, ‘what happened’? A lot of things have happened.”

“I mean about Desmond Price.”

Desmond Price. That was the first time he’d heard the name spoken aloud by any of his friends. He’d only heard it on the news channels—the man who’d killed Esteban.

“No, but I can’t wait to testify. I want that bastard to go down hard.”

“Oh, he went down hard, all right. They found him dead in his cell. No sign of foul play, no suicide, no drugs, no pre-existing conditions. A perfectly healthy, physically fit 35-year-old, just dead in his bed. No cause, other than his heart stopped. I thought you’d want to know.”

Steve was quiet for a few moments, mulling over the possibilities.

“Thank you, Sam. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well...I’m just happy you don’t have to testify and relive all that shit again. If I knew who to thank, I’d send them flowers.”

Steve was pretty sure he knew who to thank, so he retrieved the green gem from the back of the sock drawer and squeezed his hand around it.

“Loki.”

That was all he said and feared for a few moments that Loki would wait to see if he begged. He wouldn’t, and was pretty sure Loki knew it.

In less than a minute, Loki appeared, dressed in what seemed to be Asgardian workout-wear. Steve felt an involuntary warmth in his groin, and he hated the fact that Loki could do that to him.

His hair was pulled back into a tight braid, he was sweaty and breathing hard, the veins in his arms prominent. He wore only a pair of snug-fitting stretchy things that rode very low on his hips and leather vambraces on both forearms. There were fresh lacerations on his left shoulder and biceps, but the big scar on his chest seemed to have faded since the first time he’d seen it a couple of months ago. The two daggers in his hands quickly dissolved as he shimmered into existence.

“Captain.”

“Thank you for coming,” Steve said, a little stiffly.

“I thought no one else knew you were alive. But, you’ve obviously been sparring with somebody. Or did you come here straight from an actual fight?”

Loki nodded.

“There is one person in Asgard I trust with my secret. How can I help you, Captain Rogers?” he asked, also a little too formally.

“Thank you for what you did. I would normally have wanted him to go through the justice system, but, in this case...I’m just glad he’s dead.”

Loki didn’t even pretend he didn’t know what Steve was talking about.

“You’re welcome, Captain. It’s always gratifying when justice and vengeance coincide.”

Steve winced a little at Loki’s casual allusion to cold-blooded murder, but then, he’d never pretended to be anything other than what he was.

“I did want to thank you, but that’s not the only reason I ( _summoned_?) asked you here. I—would you be willing to come with me to Spain? I never had a chance to say good-bye to Esteban, and I was hoping visiting his grave might give me a little closure. There’s no one else I can ask without a lot of explanation, and I don’t know if I can do it alone.”

“Are you certain you want me there?”

Steve shuffled his feet a little and then straightened.

“Yes. It would mean a lot to me.”

“Then, your wish is my command. If you can show me on a map specifically where we’re going, I’ll take us there.”

Steve brought up the cemetery on Google Earth and Loki nodded.

“Are you ready?”

“Give me a minute to shave and change clothes.”

While Steve was changing, Loki shifted into a blue suit, shortened his hair to Steve’s length, and darkened his skin a little. When Steve stepped back out into the living room in a black suit, looking like he belonged in a Midgardian fashion magazine, Loki blanked the emotion that momentarily showed on his face, took his arm, and they blinked out.

They appeared at the entrance to the cemetery and saw several people gathered around three different headstones. Once Steve could read Esteban’s name on one, Loki faded out with a cloaking spell, whispering to Steve.

“I’ll be near the entrance. It looks like his family is here and that’s a conversation you should have in private.”

Steve hadn’t expected to find the family here, and wasn’t at all sure he could handle it right this moment. But, he took a few deep breaths, tried to control the shaking in his hands, and approached the three people gathered around Esteban’s headstone. Steve recognized them from photos. His parents and a young woman, his sister Augustina, turned to look at him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Saragosa? I’m Steve Rogers. I was a...friend...of your son.”

The older woman studied him with red-rimmed eyes for a few seconds and then broke down in tears, hugging him, and speaking surprisingly good English.

“Steve. You are _his_ Steven? Captain America?”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“He talked about you all the time. He...loved you...you know that, yes?”

“I do. And, I loved him. I—I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t hold it in anymore, and broke down completely, so badly that all three of them encircled him with their arms.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry...if he hadn’t been with me, this wouldn’t have happened. But, I didn’t come here to burden you. I just needed—“

“You needed to talk to him one last time.”

He nodded again, sobbing.

“He knew. He understood the risk of being with someone so famous; someone with so many enemies. You are not to blame, Steven,” said Augustina.

Loki kept his distance, purposely not getting close enough to listen, but he saw enough to make his heart ache for Steve. Such a short time these mortals had. How did they bear it? It was nearly inconceivable.

They sat on the ground next to the grave and talked for an hour before getting up and hugging each other. Steve knelt in front of Esteban’s headstone, kissed it, and crossed himself. He didn’t count himself a Catholic anymore—Esteban certainly hadn’t been—but he knew Mr. and Mrs. Saragosa were. He walked toward the entrance and when he was out of sight of the others, Loki reappeared at his side.

“Are you ready to go home or do you need something more here?”

“I need to go home. They wanted me to stay, but I...I couldn’t do it. I would’ve told them too much.”

Loki took his elbow and they appeared in Steve’s living room.

“You look exhausted, Captain. Let me help you. Please.”

Steve didn’t resist as Loki undressed him, then himself, and pulled him into the shower. Without a word, Loki washed him, dried him, and put him to bed, then slipped under the covers. He put an arm around Steve’s waist, spooning him, their bare skins together and warm, then touched Steve’s forehead.

“Sleep, Captain. As long as you like, with no dreams.”

When Steve woke, Loki was gone and there was a note on the pillow.

‘I had to go. I’ll see you soon.’

*****

The weeks went by and Steve had long healed physically, but emotionally, he wasn’t so sure. He was angry and frustrated and depressed by the state of the world, and that wasn’t like him. He was an optimist at heart, but that was a difficult state of mind to get back to after Esteban. The world seemed a far more awful place, now. He needed a challenge—a fight—and he knew just who to call to get one.

“Loki,” he said aloud, squeezing the gem.This time, it took Loki about half an hour to appear, and he looked...tired, guarded, dark circles around his eyes.

“You look like shit,” Steve announced.

“Thank you, Captain. My day would not have been complete without your assessment of my appearance.”

“I just meant—sorry—you look tired, and I was hoping to fight.”

“You called me specifically to argue with me? About what?”

“No, I don’t mean argue. I mean fight. I thought we could spar. I’m dying to work off some energy and I’m a little pissed off at the world, and you’re the only one I know I can go full-on with. Other than Thor, and he isn’t even around right now. But, you don’t really look up to it.”

Loki perked up noticeably, straightening his shoulders and meeting Steve’s gaze.

“Oh, my Captain...I could never turn down an invitation like that.”

“I’m not _your_ Captain.”

“We’ll see who belongs to whom, won’t we?” Loki grinned and morphed into the same workout gear he’d worn before, minus the daggers, and pulled his hair back into a low ponytail.

“We should go somewhere a bit more open, I think.”

He took Steve’s arm and they blinked into a grassy meadow surrounded by trees.

“This is my private space here on Midgard. It’s cloaked from all scrying, either magical or technological. I come here when I need to be...myself.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Steve, just before Loki laughed and back-handed him across the face.

“Ok, I might have deserved that one,” he said, looking up from all fours and rubbing his jaw.

_God, I forgot how fast he is._

He launched himself off the ground with as much force as he could and hit Loki square in the chest with his shoulder, sending him backwards nearly to the tree line. But, when he tried to press his advantage and pin him, the god had rolled to the side so Steve hit the ground face-down.

They both jumped to their feet and Steve landed a kick to Loki’s midsection, doubling him over with a loud grunt. Steve, being the fair fighter, gave him a second to catch his breath. He realized it was a tactical error when Loki’s fist slammed into his chest and he swept his foot out from under him. He landed flat on his back with a thump, and Loki stood over him, panting.

“Had enough, Captain?”

“Are you kidding? I can do this all day,” he laughed and kipped to his feet, then rammed Loki in the belly with his head. Loki fell backwards and Steve jumped on top of him, pinning his wrists.

“Do it, Steve. For Esteban. I know what you really want and so do you.”

He bit Steve’s neck hard, drawing blood, and Steve yelped. One hand grabbed a fistful of black hair and yanked hard, his mouth covering Loki’s in a crushing kiss. He gasped, startled at himself, and met Loki’s eyes, his pupils blown huge and his dick hard as steel. When Loki’s free hand went around his throat and began to squeeze, his voice was a hoarse whisper.

 _“Use me_ , Steve. Give me your anger, your pain, your hatred. I can take it. Let it out.”

He let go of Loki’s hair and twisted the hand away from his throat, gulping air.

“What the hell are you talking about!? I don’t _want_ to hurt you.”

“But, you _need_ to. It’s all right.”

In the blink of an eye, all their clothes were gone, dropped into a pile next to them, and Loki wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, squeezing tight.

“ _Hurt me._ _Fuck me._ ”

“ _No, I won’t._ I’ll never be free of you if I do.”

“I told you, Captain. Our fates are twined. You cannot escape it, and you don’t want to, even if you could.”

“Yes, I will. _You don’t own me, you son-of-a-bitch.”_

He punched Loki in the jaw hard enough to split his lower lip, and heard teeth clack together. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, but Loki’s legs were still locked tight around him. Seeing the blood on Loki’s face just made him more angry, especially at himself, and he hit him again, even harder. There was a bleeding cut on his cheekbone, now, and a dark bruise covered the left side of his face.

_What am I doing? It wasn’t his fault._

“Loki...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t you dare be sorry. Just _fuck me_.”

_I want to, so much. How often have I dreamt it? But, what then?_

“But, I don’t even have any—“

“You don’t need any. You want to be inside me—you need it—and we both know it. Just trust me.”

_Trust me. Those words again._

He closed his eyes and pressed the tip of his cock against Loki, and as soon as he did, Loki moaned and rolled his hips towards him. Steve groaned and snapped his pelvis forward hard enough to push through the ring of muscle, and Loki was slick and tight and hot around him. It was everything he’d imagined and more, and his mind swirled with emotions.

“Ah...Steve....I can take... _all of you._..I want everything. _Everything.”_

_“Oh...oh, God...you feel like...”_

_“Like we were meant to be together.”_

Loki moaned and pulled him in even tighter with his legs, and Steve quit fighting it.

“ _Fuck_. _Yes. Like that.”_

He leaned in and kissed Loki with such passion it nearly brought him to tears. This was his salvation, his future, the only way to fill the empty space in his heart. There was room for both Esteban _and_ Loki. He abandoned all other thought and focused on Loki. How his cock felt inside him, how much he’d needed this. Every movement, every moan, every shiver and twitch Loki made; every panting breath, every time those green eyes looked back into his. He wrapped his hand around Loki’s cock and kissed the bruises on his cheek.

_“Ah...Steve...please...”_

“Please what? What do you need?”

“ _You_... _thick, hard..._ _magic_.”

He was gasping for breath, barely able to form words, and his head slammed backwards into the grass.

“ _Oh...My Captain_...I—“

He was so tight, so hot, so perfect around Steve and he could swear he _did_ feel magic. Magic infused him through his cock as Loki’s eyes locked with his, the heat and sparks traveling to his fingertips, his chest, his toes. When he kissed Loki again, more gently this time, the magic flowed into him in a glowing green mist from Loki’s lips to his. He drove harder and deeper with every thrust, until the green eyes were so glazed, Steve wasn’t even sure he was conscious.

His hand around the god’s impossibly hard, slick cock, drops of pre-cum rolled down over his knuckles just before Loki’s eyes rolled up in his head and he fountained thick, white stripes all over Steve’s hand. When Loki came, he squeezed so tight around Steve, it was almost unbearable, and the magic flowing into him brought him to a climax that literally took his breath away. He whited out, the world around him faded, and he could see and feel nothing but Loki. 

“ _Ah...fuck...Loki_.”

One last thrust on the last wave of contractions, and he stopped, still, his face over Loki’s. Drops of sweat dripped onto the bruised cheek and the bloody lip, and Steve kissed him as softly and gently as he could, arms trembling from exertion and emotion. When Loki smiled up at him softly through swollen, bloody lips he felt... _new_.

He rolled off to the side and took Loki’s hand, holding it as the cuts and bruises healed and faded away. They lay there together, naked in the grass, watching the sun set over the treetops, not speaking for a long time. For the first time since Esteban’s death, he felt a little peace. Maybe a part of Esteban could live on through what he had to do now.

“Maybe your Norns had it right, after all. Let’s go save the Nine Realms.”

**Author's Note:**

> The next installment will be back to the original time line and it’s going to be a much longer and more complex story than anything I’ve ever attempted. So, I hope you stay tuned!


End file.
